


Foolish

by chasingkerouac



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, New Year's Eve, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Steggy Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:07:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28486575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasingkerouac/pseuds/chasingkerouac
Summary: New Year's Eve 1949, and Peggy and Steve are looking for an excuse to get out of a work function disguised as one of Howard's parties. But it's foolish to think there's any way to get out of it.  Absolutely foolish.
Relationships: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Comments: 21
Kudos: 55





	Foolish

**Author's Note:**

> A Steggy Secret Santa fic for itickledthesleepingdragon @ tumblr. You said that you enjoyed a mix of happy domesticity and dramatic near death, along with the Jarvises so... hopefully this little slice of life scratches a bit of both.

“We could always just...not go,” Steve pointed out from the corner of the bed where he sat watching Peggy meticulously get ready for the day.

Peggy snorted at that, glancing over her shoulder for a moment to fix him with a withering look before returning her attention to the drawer. 

“Howard would understand,” he tried again.

“That might be the most foolish thing I’ve heard said all morning.”

“Really? Because I said a lot of foolish things before we got out of bed this morning.”

Peggy turned again to find Steve grinning and she could help but match the expression. “Now… I’m not sure I would call this morning ‘foolish’,” she murmured.

“You called me a lot of names.”

“I seem to recall they were all rather complimentary.”

“I tried my best.”

“You certainly succeeded. Twice.”

Steve rose and crossed the bedroom - their bedroom - to wrap his arms around Peggy and rest his cheek on her shoulder. “I have to earn my keep somehow. I’d hate for you to send me back.”

“You know full well I couldn’t send you back if I tried,” she chuckled. “There’s no return to sender through the post for time travel. Or perhaps there is. I’ll just stick a stamp on your forehead and shove you into one of Howard’s machines and we can see what will happen.”

“That would defeat the purpose of figuring out a way to avoid Howard’s party tonight.”

She shrugged, jostling his position but he held on. “There’s no way to get out of it. He can’t resist a party, and New Year’s Eve is as good of an excuse as any. Honestly, half the reason I can’t get out of it is that he invited members from the Senate Appropriations Committee to plead SHIELD’s case for the next fiscal.”

“You do good work, Peg.”

“But someone has to pay the bill. I know, darling, I know.” She tilted her head to bury her nose in his hair. “It was easier when I could just punch a problem.”

“You never just ‘punched a problem’. That’s why they made you director.”

“They made me director because out of the three of us who hatched this little project, I’m the only one who could handle it. Could you imagine Howard in any sort of administrative role?”

Steve laughed. “The eastern seaboard would fall into the Atlantic. I’m not sure how, but he’d find a way.” He straightened up and released her, albeit reluctantly. “So we’ll go to his party, let Director Carter of SHIELD shmooze the men who hold the pursestrings, and if I’m lucky maybe the director will save her date a dance or two.”

“ _Director_ Carter doesn’t have time for dancing,” Peggy said as she found the pair of stockings she’d originally been rummaging for in the drawer. “ _Peggy_ Carter, on the other hand, won’t let the opportunity go by without dancing with her _husband_ at least once.” She turned, stockings in hand, and cupped Steve’s cheek. “We’ve had such little time together since you… came back. I’d give anything to spend the night with just the two of us. The office is closed tomorrow, so at least we have all day tomorrow. I will be yours all day tomorrow.”

Steve reached up and placed his hand over hers. “A new year.”

“A new year. Although we can’t start that new year until I get this last meeting out of the way, then Howard’s party, and then…”

“And then,” Steve repeated, beaming. “Alright, I’ll go make breakfast and let you finish getting ready.”

* * *

It was times like these that Steve missed cellphones and the ability to text for a quick answer. It wasn’t unusual for Peggy to be late coming home - her ability to get her nose into a problem and lose track of time until she’d solved it had apparently only grown in the years between the Valkyrie and now. But it was unusual that her secretary hadn’t called to offer apologies and explanations. He insisted to Peg that it wasn’t necessary - she’d come home when she came home, he was still getting his feet under him in this time and had plenty of time to spare, waiting to eat dinner wasn’t the end of the world and what she was working on probably was - but she insisted on letting him know. And he suspected that her secretary was amused at getting to call the Director’s husband with the same apologies that she usually sent to the other men’s wives. 

So, an hour late, and a call to her office had yielded nothing but a ringing line. It was New Year’s Eve, she’d probably sent everyone else home on time. He wouldn’t worry. Not yet. 

* * *

A knock on the door an hour later jolted Steve out of the market list he was working on to pass the time. Peggy wouldn’t knock, anyone coming after either of them wouldn’t knock, and random neighbors and passersby knocking to say hello or ask a favor were much more common now than in the 21st century. 

Still, his wife was two hours late. That could mean anything.

What he didn’t expect it to mean was a woman he didn’t recognize holding a casserole dish on his front porch. “Can I help you, ma’am?”

“Mr. Carter?” she asked brightly. 

“Yes.”

“Ah, wonderful. My darling Edwin dictated the address for me so quickly, I was afraid I’d mixed the numbers up. I have been sent with dinner.”

Steve paused. “I think there must be some confusion, my wife and I… Edwin,” he murmured. “Edwin Jarvis? Are you…”

“His wife, Ana. We have not yet had the opportunity to meet since you returned home from Europe, Mr. Carter.”

“Steve, please,” he said. A missing soldier who came home far too late, the story they’d decided on to explain to neighbors. No one questioned too much - people were eager to accept war stories with happy endings. “My manners, sorry. Please, come in Mrs. Jarvis.”

“Ana,” she chuckled, stepping past him into the living room and making her way back through to the kitchen. “I have known your wife too long for you to call me anything but Ana. I’m just going to place this in the refrigerator.”

“So, why did you bring dinner?” Steve asked, following her. “Do you know why Peggy is late?”

“According to Edwin, there was an incident at the office that he believes will prevent you from attending Mr. Stark’s party tonight.”

“Shit,” Steve hissed. “Where are they? Is she okay? What do I -”

“Oh, no, everything is fine,” Ana insisted. She closed the refrigerator door before reaching out to place her hand on Steve’s arm. “Edwin did not sound alarmed on the phone. He was helping out Peggy, but he asked if I might bring something over. Luckily the caterers had arrived and I was able to pull together some things for the two of you. Peggy is not known for…” she trailed off.

“I do most of the cooking,” Steve admitted.

“She is very lucky you came home to her.”

“I’m very lucky I was able to come home.”

“I know she must appreciate what a long time it took for you to make your way back.”

“Wait,” Steve murmured, but his thought was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and Peggy swearing as something clacked against the door frame. “Peggy?”

“I am perfectly capable of getting myself inside my own home, Jarvis, no matter what the doctor said!”

“The doctor said not to put weight on your knee for a couple of days, hence the crutch Ms. Carter.”

“I’m not putting any weight on it.”

“You certainly are.”

Steve all but bolted into the living room, willing himself not to panic - no one sounded injured - and was greeted with an irritated-but-in-one-piece Peggy and an exasperated Mr. Jarvis. Her stockings were torn, a scrape on her cheek that would bloom with a bruise in a day, and a bandage wrapped around the knee that he assumed was the need for the crutch. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“There was an incident at the office,” she sighed.

Steve’s expression darkened. “What happened?”

“She’s making it sound rather more espionage heavy than it actually was,” Jarvis interjected. “I don’t think your husband will find it as foolish as you do.”

“Foolish?” Steve’s expression brightened at that. “I think we had a discussion about foolish things this morning.”

“Yes, well…” Peggy grumbled, unable to hide a small grin now. “I think I might take your crown for most foolish thing said today.”

“And that is?”

“Those stairs don’t look that icy.”

The laugh escaped Steve’s throat before he could school his expression in front of company. “Oh… Peggy, I’m sorry. Here, that had to hurt.” He reached out to move her crutch against the wall and sweep her up easily into his arms. “The doctor’s right - gotta stay off that knee.”

“And since she is in no condition to mingle tonight, Mr. Stark has promised to dazzle Senators Crosby and Whitenell tonight and let Ms. Carter convalesce,” Jarvis explained. “Ah, and I see my beautiful wife made it here with dinner.”

“I got here just a few minutes before you did,” Ana explained. “The duck looked lovely, by the way.”

“Oh, wonderful, I was so impressed with their tenderloin last month, I’d hoped tonight would be just as good.” Jarvis turned to smile at Steve. “If you both will excuse us, we do need to get back. Mr. Carter, I leave her in your capable hands.”

“Thank you Jarvis,” Steve replied. “And thank you, Ana.”

“It was lovely to meet you. Peggy, feel better.”

With the door closed behind the Jarvises, Peggy groaned and let her head rest on Steve’s shoulder. “You are allowed to put me down, you don’t have to hold me up all night.”

“I’m afraid if I put you down, you’ll do something foolish again.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. It’s December, I don’t know why I assumed those marble stairs outside the building were completely clear.”

“I was worried.”

“I know, I’m sorry darling. I was talking with Howard and we were leaving the building and my legs just… went out from under me. I’m usually much more coordinated than that.”

“We can blame Howard.”

“We most certainly are blaming Howard.”

Steve sat her down gingerly on the couch. “You could’ve called.

“When I couldn’t stand up straight, they were afraid I’d broken something. I assumed Howard would call you after sending me off to the hospital with Jarvis but… I should’ve given him more explicit instructions.”

“I’m just glad you’re alright.” He sat down next to her and reached a hand up to trace the scrape on her cheek. “You know, there were easier ways to get out of the party tonight.”

“At least this one Howard can’t question,” she laughed. “Oh, darling, if anyone asks can we make up a better story than being attacked by stairs?”

“Renegade nazis?”

“Yes, I think that would work.” She leaned against him and took a long, deep breath. “Here’s to welcoming in a new year, Mr. Carter. I think 1950 is going to be our year,” she murmured.

Steve smiled, letting his head lean against hers. “I think so too, Mrs. Carter. I think so too.”


End file.
